Line-Dancing Cowboys and the Snake-Charmer

It has been just over a month now since Christmas and it has taken me that long to process some of the things that I experienced then.  


Christmas here is a bit more low-key than it is the U.S.  There is still a great deal of shopping and activity, but it was quieter overall.  I have been told that up until a few years ago, Christmas was still a workday for many people.  It just wasn't "done up" like I have known.


That being said, there were some very familiar elements to be had, especially when it came to church life.  More about those in a bit.  But first...


The relationship between church and schools here is much closer than it is in the States.  The parish minister is considered to be the chaplain for the local school as well, and if the head teacher (think principal) is willing to have the minister come in, she is invited to do short assembly times each week with a religious theme.  I will be leading my first one this coming Friday.  I can only hope they can understand my mongrel accent.


Anyway, just before Christmas, each school presented a Christmas program and most of them had a Nativity play of some kind or other.  Because MaryAnn, our parish minister and my supervisor, has a daughter and son who are in another school in our parish, I went to the one where I will speak on Friday so that she could be a mom that day and be with her children.  


The sounds in the large gymnasium/assembly hall were much the same as many others I have heard.  Parents and younger children rustled in with their winter coats, cameras of every variety adorning their necks and pockets.  As each family jockeyed for the best viewing position, a very serious young man from one of the older classes handed out programs and reported anything needful to the teacher who was organizing things.  I watched this all from my seat of honor as the parish minister (and yes, I was wearing my clerical collar so they would know what I was).  The decibel level rose with every family that entered the acoustically challenged room.


What followed was really a cute play of the Nativity with all the usual characters, the story line we have memorized through the years, and music that was both traditional and new.  There were only a couple of things that I didn't recognize from the original text.  They were the line-dancing cowboys and the snake-charmer.


Yes, you read it right.  Line-dancing cowboys and a snake-charmer.  In a Christmas play.  Noticeable, to say the least.  And there wasn't a shepherd in sight.


The cowboys were cast as the modern-day shepherds -- though to be truthful, in a land like Scotland where there are a WHOLE lot more sheep than cattle, I would have thought shepherds would have been appropriate, too.  Then again, I have never seen a shepherd even attempt a line dance.  That may be well beyond their job description.  Once I got past the shock of small Scottish children in cowboy hats, I was all right.  They were quite good at what they did.


The next surprise came when the snake charmer made an entrance.  It wasn't a real snake (which was probably a good thing).  It was a stuffed snake attached to the charmer's wooden flute, rigged so that when the flute was raised, the snake came up out its basket.  Why a snake charmer, you may be asking?  Well, it really does make a bit of sense.  You see, the charmer was accompanying the Wise Men from the East, and it makes perfect sense to me that they could well have HAD a snake charmer with them.  It's just that that particular detail had never quite made it into the biblical account of Jesus' birth.  Of course, neither did the fact that the baby Jesus would have had dirty diapers and SOMEbody had to change the holy nappies at some point.


Perhaps the best part of all this, upon reflection, is what it says about the coming of Jesus.  In a time when we absolutely must become aware that no one nation lives in isolation from any other, the children in this school widened the story of Jesus' birth to embrace East and West in new ways.  "For God so loved the world" we proclaim -- and here they made it clear.  


I think I rather like having line-dancing cowboys and snake-charmers in the Nativity after all...

Language Lessons

This first year in Scotland is my familiarization year.  It is a year of grace in which I have the opportunity to settle in and learn about the culture and church before taking on a parish of my own.  

Part of this familiarization has involved learning how things operate and how to operate myself within this culture.  It has also included unintentional language lessons -- those times in conversation when I have looked at someone in clear confusion as I tried to interpret what they just said.  I have, of course, returned the favor (one conversation included the phrase catty-cornered, which caused great amusement).

So, I now share with you a variety of new words for your edification, in no particular order...




Dreich, mingin' = gray, rainy, dreary.  Apparently, dreich is a bit "nicer" way to say it


rammy, stooshy, stramash = argument.  These are all about the same in terms of intensity, from what I understand.  A stramash can also be a disturbance.


bidie-in = your significant other with whom you live, without being married


dear = expensive


stocious = drunk 


chuffed = pleased about something


brass-necked = arrogant


bamboozled = confused


kerfuffle = confusion.  You can have a kerfuffle in a situation or your papers and things might be in a kerfuffle


dingin' doon = pouring down rain


to grass someone out = to rat them out


skip = dumpster


teuchter = a country person


waistcoat = vest


vest = camisole


braces = suspenders


wool = yarn, be it wool, cotton, or acrylic, or anything else


suss out = figure something out, work it out

Watch Out, She's on the Road

December 19.  That was the day that driving in Scotland changed for a number of people.  That was the day that Ouiser (say Weezer -- she is a wee car) hit the road with me behind the wheel.  Any defensive driving courses they have taken have been well-used since then.


Ouiser is a 2004 Fiat Panda.  She is very small, especially compared to Minnie Pearl, my four-door truck who is now living in Arkansas.  She had only 15,000 miles when I got her -- I have probably put more miles on her in two weeks than in six months in her previous life!


Thus far, I have stayed on the correct side of the road.  I figure that as long as I don't see cars heading directly at me, I am probably on the right side of the road.  It has actually been easier than I had imagined it would be.  Of course, I look like a complete idiot as I go along because I am still talking myself through each turn and move.  I have apologized to a number of people, though they couldn't hear me.  Some of them were busy waving at me with one finger to hear any remorse....


The good part about a very small car is the maneuverability.  I had forgotten how small a space a car could fit into!  And the insurance costs are a LOT less.  My insurance was purchased through the Post Office.  It still feels a bit odd to think about the Post Office providing car insurance, but they do -- as do a number of other retailers.  One of those things that makes a body say hmmmm.....  

Anyway, my new friends Helen and Justin took their lives in their hands on December 19 and took Ouiser's maiden voyage with me.  We made it quite well -- until the briefest, most intense blizzard hit Edinburgh at 2:00 p.m. (such that everyone talked about it the next day) while WE WERE OUT IN IT!  Bless them.  They are very brave.

Time Flies When You Get Older

My parents used to tell me when I was a child that time would go much faster when I was an adult. I didn't believe them. I should have. That, among many other things, was one of the grown-up truths that I simply couldn't understand. Sigh -- they were right.

We have entered 2010 with a swiftness that belies my sense of belief. I have noticed (as others of you undoubtedly have) that it has been a long time since I have added to my blog. Well, it is a new year now, so here you have a new post.

It was summer when last I posted. There is now snow on the ground and it is all of 27 degrees outside. The days are very short. I have never before in my life prayed for the winter solstice to come like I did in 2009!

A brief summary of the past few months...

My boys -- Asher and Joseph, the miniature dachshunds, and Timothy the cat -- arrived safely on September 10. We were all overjoyed to be together again. On September 27, Joseph died unexpectedly, a victim to some kind of unidentified virus or bacteria to which he had no immunity. I was devastated. That is really the only way I can describe it. He was my clown, an affectionate little guy who never met a person he didn't like.

My work at St. Anne's Parish Church in Edinburgh has gone exceedingly well. The members have made a warm place for me in their lives. I have performed two funerals and assisted in one baptism, as well as led an informal communion service. I led a three-session Advent study on particular Christmas carols, participated in a whole host of Christmas activities, and have taken the past week after Christmas as holiday time.

On Monday, December 28, I drove to Yorkshire (yes, I have a car and I know how to use it) to pick up a little girl long-haired miniature dachshund who is now named Anna. She is a cream color and is simply beautiful. We have spent the week getting acquainted -- and finding each other. She has escaped from me twice and gone barrelling off down the road (and it is a busy road). Some new friends, Helen and Justin, have been more than kind in helping me find her both times. It is a rather heart-stopping way to begin a relationship with a new family member! While she is sleeping peacefully on the sofa beside me right now, she will be on a lead securely fastened around my wrist in a few minutes when we go outside...

I begin 2010 still somewhat surprised that I have begun it in a new country. I have been 5 months in a church and will leave it with sadness at the end of January to begin the next steps of my familiarization. I have no doubt that the people I will meet there will be as lovely as the people I have come to know and love already.


There will be more frequent posts forthcoming -- promise.  There are some quandaries, some observations, some language lessons -- oh, just all sorts of things.  In the meantime, I have a trip to Asda (translate -- Wal-Mart) to make...

Flushing on the Left and Other Curiosities of Living Abroad

I have never spent too much time considering flush toilets unless I have been in desperate need of one. That being said, I am a big fan of flush toilets and indoor plumbing in general, having been introduced at a very young age to the realities of an outhouse. Daddy had to do some quick talking to convince me that he wasn't kidding when he told me that little building truly was the bathroom I had to use.

Anyway, there is a curious thing about said flush toilets here in Scotland. The handle is on the left side, as opposed to the right side in the States. You wouldn't think this would be a big deal, but trust me when I say that the first few days of this was a bit disorienting. Who knew that such a simple action as flushing the toilet was so ingrained in our muscle memory? If you don't believe me, take a few moments the next time you are in a bathroom and note where that handle is!

Another curiosity to me is the lack of window screens anywhere I have looked. They are, of course, ubiquitous in the States, particularly in the South, where flying bugs can carry off your first-born if they so desire. Not so in Scotland.

I didn't think too much about it until I went to make application for the flat I will be moving into this week. It is on the ground floor (perfect for my dachshunds Asher and Joseph) but has no screens (not so perfect for my cat Timothy, since it fronts a busy street). I remembered to ask the letting agent if there were screens for the windows. I got an utterly blank look in response and the words, "There are window coverings." I had to clarify that I meant wire mesh screens to keep the cat in.

"The windows are elevated," said he, trying to be helpful.

"He is a cat," said I.

"Oh," he responded. "There are no screens."

It is not a complete loss, however. I have located screen kits online that I will have time to purchase and install with magnets before my boys arrive. And I -- I will have the only screens on the block, as far as I can tell. Won't I be special?

Some Photos for Your Enjoyment

I have shared with you tidbits from the Gathering that happened the weekend that I arrived, so thought you should see some of them.

There are pictures of some of my Clan Gunn men in their full rigs, of a presentation made by the Maori family of one of our men who emigrated to New Zealand and married a Maori woman, of one of the groups present at the Highland Games, and of me with my favorite author, Diana Gabaldon.

A Wedding, A Funeral, and A Sunday In Between

I have now been employed by the Church of Scotland for two weeks. I made my way to St. Anne's Parish Church on Saturday, August 1, to be sure I could make it there on the bus come Sunday morning. When I got there, a wedding party had gathered for a service MaryAnn Rennie, pastor of St. Anne's, was doing. I had intended to nip in and drop off my preaching robe, have a look around, and head out. Instead, MaryAnn asked if I would like to stay for the wedding service to observe.

I was a bit surprised -- then she explained to me that weddings work a bit differently here for the most part. The vows and the party are often separated by several hours. If you are invited to the party, you may or may not attend the first part with the vows. Most anyone can attend the vows, whether or not you have been invited and only some people dress up for the occasion.

For this wedding, the groom and groomsmen were all in kilts and very nice jackets. Somehow I knew I was in Scotland. The actual vows came early in the order of service and the Scripture readings and short message was done later -- just the opposite of how I have known things to be done. There was also a gift given to the bride and groom from the church. This time, MaryAnn had chosen Ma Broon's Cookbook.

Come Sunday, the day began with the 9:30 a.m. Family Service. This service proved to be a very informal time that is extremely child friendly. MaryAnn plans an activity for the service that will involve everyone who wants to be involved then does a shorter message.

Tea and cake (and coffee) in between services -- and a lot of friendly, welcoming faces who have promised me that they will remind me of their names frequently!

The 11:00 a.m. service was much more formal. Yet it was a comfort to be there, to hear voices raised in song together, to be saying prayers that were familiar. This was followed by lunch with MaryAnn, her husband Keith, and their children Calum and Aileen at the manse (church-owned housing provided for the pastor and family). Then it was off to a short service at a nearby assisted-living facility. Again, some things sound much the same in any country. Sounds of group living and words of encouragement are some of those things.

Come Monday, I was off to a funeral with MaryAnn. For the first time, I attended a service at a crematorium. Cremation is the preferred method of dealing with the body in the city areas here and so, just the way that we frequently have services at funeral homes in the States to make it easier to deal with moving the body around, here they often have services at the crematorium and the body is simply lowered from the upper level of the facility to the lower one. There were no pall bearers, only staff members who brought in the casket. There was music -- both recorded and organ. Once again -- same and different all at the same time.

It was a busy first weekend.